What's In A Name
by CameoAmalthea
Summary: Mello doesn't seem to care about anyone but himself and his own ambitions. The exception to this Matt, who seems to be a true friend to Mello. Ever wonder how they met and became friends? This story answers that, and other questions.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: My take on how Matt and Mello First met, I always thought Mello was kind of a juvenile delinquent bully type.

His name was Mihael, not Michael, and the blond would quickly correct anyone who pronounced it the English way, saying "It's Mee-ha-ell not My-cull."

He wasn't English, not that his accent gave this away. He'd come to Wammy's House at the age of nine, transferred from a juvenile facility for delinquent minors in Ljubljana, and had learned to speak well enough to pass for native. However, he still insisted people pronounce his name right. Not that many people called him by his first name anyway. Shortly after coming here he'd picked up the nick name Mello. It had started from a taunt.

It was his first day at the school, recess. He was sitting alone, glowering, taking in his strange surroundings. It was so different than any life he'd ever known. The blond boy wasn't playing or interacting with the other kids, it was all a bit overwhelming for him and his English wasn't that good yet. Mihael would have been perfectly content to stay sitting under the tree thinking over how he had come to be here, and wondering what his new life would be like. He didn't want to start trouble or a fight, but if a fight came to him he'd finish it. Which was exactly what happened when one of the older boys at the school, a bespeckled fifth grader who was a head taller than Mihael and from the looks of him about 100 lbs heavier, had decided to mess with him.

He came tromping up, followed by three other guys who stood beside him like body guards. "Hey kid," he said his tone that was not at all friendly. Mihael ignored him, unsure of what to say in this foreign tongue. "What you don't talk? I thought this was a school for geniuses not retards. So you're the new boy? Aren't you a little scrawny for a nine year old, you look like a girl, a pretty baby _girl_, and that hair little _mello yellow_." The last bit was in a sing song voice.

He hadn't gotten the full gist of what the bigger boy had said, but he could tell when he was being mocked. Mihael gave him a bloody nose then and there. The boy cried out in pain, then just stood there stunned at the blond's audacity. No one at the school would have dared to do something like that. The boy he hit, Rodney, was the worst bully in the place, everyone was scared of him. He couldn't believe this skinny little blond twerp had dared to hit him, and pretty hard at that. Of course the two other boys moved to make Mihael pay for that, but their leader held up his hand to stop them.

"Watch it boys, this kid's pretty tough," he actually smiled as he wiped the blood from his nose. It had hurt, but his nose wasn't broken, no real harm done. He was impressed by this kid. "Mello Yellow here's got some guts, I like him. Hey how's about you join my gang kid?"

By the time two years had gone by Mello was the undisputed leader of the 'gang' of bullies, and without a doubt the toughest kid in the school. The nickname had stuck, and he liked it well enough. Most kids thought it was ironic because Mello could be was anything but calm sometimes.

He had a temper, an attitude, a mean streak, and could be pretty ruthless. Even if older high school aged kids tried to mess with him he could hold his own in a fight. He'd come from a rough back ground.

He had no idea who his father was or if he ever had one around. As for his mom, she had died when he was pretty young, he didn't remember her much. He remembered that she was pretty, that she always smelled of lavender, and gave him chocolate sometimes. They couldn't afford things like candy much, so when he got chocolate it was always treated as something very special. She had died in a fire, he had been with her, they'd rescued him from the ruins, she'd saved her son by covering him with her own body while she burned. He didn't remember what happened though, he had been so young.

After his mother died he'd been placed in Catholic Orphanage run by Franciscan nuns, there he stayed until he was about seven years old, when he ran away. After that he'd lived on the streets for a while, fallen into a gang and held his own. However, even the toughest kid can't win a fight against two police officers.

The juvenile facility had its own school for the kids there. They didn't know what grade to place him in though. All Mihael could tell them was that he had been to school, but he wasn't sure for how long, he just shrugged, and said he could read and write. So they gave him an aptitude test to place him. The results had been outstanding, or so the teacher had explained, so outstanding in fact that Mihael found himself having to do a host of other tests. Some were normal, reading, writing, math, others had to do with mazes, puzzles, and what shapes you saw when looking at blobs of ink on flash cards. It was tedious, but the teacher gave him chocolate as a reward for working hard and doing well on the tests, which made Mello happy, not only because of the candy itself, but because it was recognition that he had done well.

The teacher was a man by the name of Luka Sklavko. As a younger man he had studied in England where he made the acquaintance of a man named Quillsh Wammy. Quill had similar ideals as Luka, they both believed that helping children was the key to a better future. Luka had chosen to return to his home country and work with at risk youth, hoping that as a teacher he could change the path they were going down in life. Quill had used his family's large fortune to found a orphanage for gifted youth.

When Luka Sklavko came across the young Mihael Keehl he was amazed to find a student with so much potential. The boy was a genius; his IQ was well over 140. Luka had contacted his old college friend right away. This boy had nowhere to go, and it would be a shame for a boy like this to end up a common street thug. A good environment, the right attention, that's all he needed.

So a few months later Mihael was transferred to the school in England. By the time his sentence was served, it wasn't that harsh of a sentence only four months, all the necessary paperwork had been taken care of. Legal guardian ship had been granted to Mr. Wammy, and he was to stay in that school until he became an adult. He was very lucky, or so his teacher had said. He actually thought so too. After the intelligence tests had been done, for the first time in his life he felt like he was worth something. The teacher had treated him like he mattered, like he was special, the better he did on things, the more attention he got. He liked it, and liked the feeling of being better than everyone else.

At The Wammy's House he had continued to excel, striving always to be the best. It made him feel good about himself. His whole life before this, he had been nothing, now, for the first time, he mattered, as long as he was the best. Always it was a matter of proving himself, that he was good enough, that he was worth something after a life time of feeling pretty worthless.

His hard work paid off in so far as he was never kicked out of the school despite being a trouble maker. So by the age of twelve, Mello felt pretty much on top of the world. He was the smartest kid in school (well there was the little pale kid, but he was nothing; Mello was smarter, he'd beat him), and the toughest. But he really didn't have any friends, he had lackeys.

That is until he came along.

His name was Mail Jeevas.


	2. Chapter 2

When the two first met, however, it was far from love at first sight, in fact it was closer to loathing. Mello was already in a foul mood due to the fact that someone had scored higher than him in his grade's surprise evaluation test. He swore as he read the score, it was enough that he had Near to deal with, now he wasn't even the top scorer in his grade. He swore loudly.

"Young man that is not the kind of language we tolerate at this institute," came the crisp voice was an elderly British woman, Mrs. Lindall. As she entered the room it was instantly fully illuminated by the motion sensitive lights, which to Mello seemed just as harsh as the tone Mrs. Lindall always used with him. She was a physics teacher, and held a distinct dislike for Mello. Many teachers turned a blind eye to his misbehaviors', the bullying incidents, because he was such a brilliant hard working student, but Mrs. Lindall wasn't one of them. She tolerated no nonsense.

"You could have knocked," growled Mello, shutting down his school issued lap top.

"Well, I apologize, now, please let me introduce your new roommate." She said motioning to the small red haired boy who stood beside her. He was decidedly odd looking, wearing an assortment of strange mismatched clothes and tinted goggles over his eyes. Not that his eyes could be seen anyway since they were downcast, intently focused on the Game Boy Advance in his hands. Mello, however, barely noticed him.

The word roommate made him cringe.

Mello had a room to himself, because everyone else was afraid to room with him. He worked hard to keep it that way. If anyone was forced to room with him, they always requested to be transferred, even if they had to sleep three in a room, they didn't want to be with Mello. Of course they would never say the reason they wanted to transfer was because Mello would knock their teeth out if they didn't ask for a transfer. They just always thought of some good excuse. However, this kid was new, apparently, so he might not be smart enough to give in to a little intimidation. Oh well, he'd learn. Still, Mello was in a bad mood, and didn't want to deal with this right now.

For his part Mail didn't notice Mello. In fact, he hadn't looked up from his Game Boy Advance since they let him out of class. He'd been reluctant to stop even then, but he wanted to try the test. Officially he wasn't to start school until the following Monday, and had only been in class while being given a tour earlier that day when the tests were being administered. But when they explained it was random progress assessment exam, he had wanted to take it.

His hope was that since he'd been home-schooled before this he knew more and could skip a few grades. School had never been a challenge for him after all. More than that, he liked that the test would take his mind off of, well reality. When he was focusing on test problems, or a video game, it was all the same thing, just as long as his mind was busy, then he could keep himself from thinking about the fact his dad had just died, and maintain the comfortable numbness he had sunken into.

"Well I'll leave you two to get better acquainted, and you" she said glaring at Mello, "there aren't any more available rooms for your age group, so like it or not he's staying, so no shenanigans!"

With that she turned, leaving the two boys alone. Mail picked up his bag which had been delivered today, and carried it over to what looked like the unused bed. In fact, the bed was used, Mello used it to sleep in, but that wouldn't seem to be the case considering that the bed Mail sat on was neatly made and clear, while the other bed was cluttered with Mello's junk. Mello was in the habit of using one bed to put stuff on, and another to sleep in, but of course Mail had no way to know this. The red head sat on the foot of Mello's bed, continuing to play his game, ignoring the other boy.

Mello couldn't stand it. Not only was this kid sitting on _his_ bed, in _his_ room, he was ignoring him. Mello hated being ignored. He came to stand in front of him, "you're sitting on my bed," he stated.

"didn't look like it," said the other, "or I guess they're both yours, is that it?"

"Yeah," said Mello, matter of fact, he then noticed the name tag all new students were forced to wear, "Mail?" he asked, "You're name is mail, as in letters? That's a stupid name."

"Its pronounced like Mile. It's French, normally spelled M-A-E-L, but my mom thought I should have a unique name." he said, still not looking up, his tone apathetic.

"Mile, that's almost as bad as Mail."

Without looking up, he quipped sarcastically, "And you're called Mello right, at least that's what I've heard. If Mello really is your name then you're one to talk about having weird names."

"It's a _nickname_ genius," he said matching his sarcasm. "Speaking of genius, how did you get into this school? You don't seem that smart to me."

The boy shrugged, continuing to play his game. Ignoring the other, perhaps in the hopes he would go away.

"And what's with those goggles?" Mello continued, refusing to let the other pretend he didn't exist.

"They're prescription. My vision's not that bad, just enough that I need glasses, but I can see alright without them, just easier with."

"And you don't just wear normal glasses _because_?" Mello drew could the word because as he spoke.

"They got lost easily, on a fast moving boat turn your head the wrong way and your glasses are over board and not coming back. The first time it happened I had to use prescription scuba goggles, and they stayed on so well that later we decided to it was easier just to pay for specialized prescription goggles like these. Hard to loose, and tinted so they completely protect your eyes from UV."

"Boat? Where are you from anyway?"

"My father is," he paused and took a deep breath, "was a marine scientist, pretty important researcher, he funded the projects too."

"And your mom?"

"died when I was three." He reached into his pocket taking out a pack of cigarettes along with a lighter, barely looking up, even as he lit one and putting it in his mouth took a long drag. He then continued to play his game "Look, will you just leave me alone."

Mello's face burned with anger. He jerked the cigarette out of the other's mouth. And tossed in into the nearby in room sink, flipping on the water to extinguish it. "You aren't going to smoke those things in here. I'm not going to have my room stink or die of lung cancer or in a fire. Where did you even get those things?"

The truth was Matt had found them after his father's funeral. He'd been looking for alcohol, wasn't that what adults did to numb the pain, but the liquor cabinet was locked, but he did manage to find a pack of cigarettes. He figured, anything people do despite how bad for you they are must do something good. He'd ended up getting hooked, and liked what cigarettes did well enough, helped him stay calm.

Now, he was anything but as he looked up for the first time. He was surprised when he finally got a good look at Mello, and laughed, "You're the one everyone's so afraid of? You look like a little girl."

"Well I don't hit like one," snarled Mello grabbing the other by his shirt collar with his left hand, while pulling his right hand back to easily punch him. "Now listen up, I don't want a roommate, so you're going to ask to be transferred. Offer to stay with someone in a younger grade, I don't care, but you're not staying here. Are we clear or will my fist hitting your face make it clearer?"

Matt set down his game boy, then reached up removing his goggles, "If you want to hit me go ahead." There was no bravado in these words, just utter apathy, he didn't care if he was hit, he was numb to everything.

Mello let him go, it wasn't fun to bully someone when they weren't afraid or putting up a fight, the level of Mail's complete uncaring listlessness almost frightened him, "What's your problem?"

"What _my_ problem? What's _my_ problem? The school bully who was about to beat the crap out of me for no real reason is asking me what _my_ problem is?" his voice revealed emotion for the first time, anger building more and more with each word, "I don't know?" he said sarcastically, before screaming, "Maybe the fact that my father fucking _died_ a week ago! And, now…now, I'm here, half way around the world, where it's cold, raining, cloudy, and my roommate just won't fucking lay off!"

Mello was stunned by the intensity of Mail's anger; the boy had spoken so softly before, with such utter calm and disinterest. Now he was shouting, his anger hitting Mello like a slap in the face. Then a dead silence settled over the room, broken only be he sound of Mail's ragged breathing. Mail just sat there panting, practically hyperventilating, before suddenly bursting into tears and sobbing. It was the first time he had cried over it, the first time he had allowed it to really hit him. He had walled off all his feelings like water behind a dam, and now with that outburst of anger it broke, and his face flooded with the unshed tears.

Mello was silent. He wouldn't mock the other for crying, of course not, this grief was too intense to laugh at. Mello might have been the tough kid, but he was still a kid, he never cried about anything, or showed his feelings, but he did have them. Mello sat down beside the other and put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, it's going to be alright."

Mail turned and unexpectedly embraced him, sobbing into his shirt. His breaths were gasping hiccups. "No it isn't, I want my life back, I…I want my dad"

Mello froze at the embrace, but couldn't bring himself to push the other away, instead he just held him, and let him cry. Until at last the sobbing ceased, and Mello looked down to find that the other had fallen asleep, warn out by grief and exhaustion. Mello didn't want to wake him. Matt's head was against his chest and his arms still held onto him even in sleep. This made getting up without waking him impossible. Besides, the other bed was a complete disaster area, so he might as well sleep here. So the blond simply lay back on the bed, still holding the other. Soon the light switched off, but my that time Mello had already closed his eyes.

Together they slept through the night.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning when Mello awoke, Mail was already up. "I'm sorry," he said to the blond, "about last night I" Mail began but was quickly cut off."It's cool, about last night, I mean, it's understandable, you're dad just died." His tone was sympathetic, and he would rather not mention the fact they had shared a bed, or that he had been nice, that would kill his reputation, "don't mention it." this comment was not at all friendly or offhand, in fact it had a distinctive ring of command, that left Matt with the feeling it was the sort of statement usually followed by or else.

"I am sorry about your dad though, really" he said solemnly, but this soon vanished as Mello's somber tone brightened as he asked somewhat enthusiastically, "What was it, shark attack?" A bit callous maybe to sound so intrigued, but come on, that would be so cool.

"Heart attack." said Mail giving Mello a duh look accompanied by an eye roll.

"Well I'm sorry, you know, it's gotta be hard. I don't have parents either." The same sympathetic seriousness had returned. "

Well this is an _orphanage_." said Mail in the same dry tone.

Mello shot a glared at him as he headed for the dresser to find some clothes. He was trying to be nice, and what did he get for his trouble, cheekiness.

"Sorry, I shouldn't be rude,"

Mello looked over at him, it was then he noticed that the other was using his laptop. "What are you doing on my computer?" he snapped.

"Playing Grand Theft Auto" replied the red head casually.

"How did you even get access to it, it's locked with a password."

"Oh yeah, I hacked your access password, hope you don't mind." He said with a nonchalant shrug, "I figured you were probably going to knock the crap out of me and force me to volunteer to sleep in the shed or something, so I was trying to find something to black mail you with. Then I noticed your game selection, I love this one."

Mello stared at him, too befuddled by the fact he gotten distracted by the games at a time like that to even move to make him sorry for messing with his computer. "So you were in the middle of breaking into my computer, trying to find something to hold over my head before I woke up and caught you, and you stopped to play _video games_?"

"Yeah," he said, "trying to black mail you got boring, besides there's not much to find anyway, not even pictures of naked girls." He sounded slightly disappointed at the last bit. "oh and by the way, before you kill me, I notice you had the latest test scores up for the thing they made us do yesterday."

"Yeah, and?" not quite getting why it mattered.

"You really care about grades that much?" he asked, "I mean you have a freaking excel spread sheet tracking all your test scores, GPA, and everything compared to some kid in the grade below us, River I think his name is."

"He goes by Near, and he consistently scores the same or better than I did when I was in his grade." His bitterness at this fact was clearly evident in Mello's voice.

"_So_?" he asked slowly. Mail really didn't see why it would be that big of a deal.

"So this isn't just a school for gifted kids who have nowhere else to go." Snapped Mello, annoyed with the other's ignorance "We're being groomed."

"For what?" asked Mail confused, no one had told him any of this yet.

"To eventually succeed L," the answer came at once, Mello's voice ardent.

"L?"Mail raised an eyebrow

"Is the most brilliant mind of our time, and the greatest asset the international law enforcement community has. He used to be a student here, and when he dies, or retires, though dying is kind of likely in his line of work, one of us will take his place."

"And you want it to be you, and not Near."

"Yes. Wow, maybe you are cut out for this school after all. Great deductive reasoning there, just brilliant," said Mello sarcastically.

"Well I'm definitely cut out for this school, considering I beat you on the evaluation test yesterday, and I haven't even been to class here yet." He smirked, the shrugged, "I'm pretty good at tests, and with computers."

"So you're the one!" snapped Mello, insisted that this kid who obviously didn't take things that seriously had beaten him. Well, there was an easy way to solve this problem. "You know I could probably get you expelled for breaking into my computer."

"Yes," conceded the boy, without any real concern, "but then I couldn't help you."

"Help me what?" it was Mello's turn to be slightly confused.

"Beat Near of course, isn't that what you want." He said with the same tone of near exasperation. As though it were incredible Mello wasn't following him on this.

"Yeah, but why would you want to help me?" they were rivals, weren't they?

"Because it would be fun, like a game, to outdo Near, but I have no interest in becoming the next super detective, seriously? I bet you don't even get to do anything that exciting. I mean if it were being a normal cop then maybe, cause wouldn't it be awesome to go down in a hail of gun fire or something? But anyway, yeah, I don't want to be the next L, and I don't exactly need employment. My dad had life insurance, and that's on top of the money I'm inheriting just from his assets, when I turn eighteen I'll be set for a while. I'll have enough to live, and game. It'll be sweet, and in the mean time, I'll help you beat Near because it'll be something to do, and I think this whole being roommates thing will work out a lot better if you don't hate me. That and I'd rather not be beaten to a bloody pulp now or on a regular basis." He reached into his bag, the one he had carried with him on the flight over and pulled out a chocolate bar. Mail had loaded upon snacks for the plane ride, and not eaten most of them, "Candy?" he offered, "I noticed you're garbage is filled with chocolate bar wrappers, so I figured you like some."

Mello hesitated for a moment, thinking over what the other boy had said, before reaching out and taking the candy bar, "Thanks, and alright I won't make your life miserable, and we can get along. In fact, I'll put you under my protection."

"What are you, like the mafia don?" scoffed Mail.

"In this school, pretty much, every bully answers to me. So no one will mess with you, because you're my," he didn't say friend, partner wouldn't do.

"Ok, I get you. I'm your man Friday basically,"

"Yeah, I guess, kind of like a pet." He teased, "You'll be faithful and loyal and stick with me, and I'll look after you."

"Why do I get the feeling you're probably going to get me killed someday," he sighed, "And pet, seriously? Uh huh, well whatever, as long as you don't call me Rover or something."

"How about Matt?" suggested Mello.

"What?" asked Mail, did this guy seriously just name him?

"Well, nothing personal, but Mail, eh, not the best name." shrugged Mello while munching on his candy bar.

The other considered it, then shrugged, it was probably better to just let the blond do what he wanted. "Fine. Matt. I like it." Really it was an ok name, he grinned suddenly standing up "So its Matt and Mello together against…well whatever," his faked enthusiasm dissipated as he sat back down, turning his attention back to the game he was playing on Mello's computer. "But out of curiosity, what's your real name?"

So Mello told the boy who would be his first friend, and who would become the only person that Mello would ever love, that his name was Mihael Keehl.


End file.
